The Hidden Prince
by Pie-12th
Summary: Elaith Craulnober's unknown son suddenly crosses his path. Neither knows the other, so how will they interact? Slash, mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

AN: My first fic for a long time. It's been awhile since I've written anything on my own time that wasn't for school. I know it's short, another chapter should be coming up soon.

Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue.

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The Hidden Prince

Ducking a knife whizzing by his head, Bast veered into the nearest building he could see, "The Shining Serpent." Unfortunately for him, he ended up in a much worse situation. A cold, sharp blade pressed into his throat, and long fingers gripped his hair, pulling his head back.

"What do you think you are doing?" a silky voice demanded. Not wanting to antagonize this obviously dangerous being any further, he automatically answered.

"Hiding, sir." He cringed inside at the sound of the waver in his usually steady voice. The knife didn't move, and Bast started thinking that his last view of the world would be of the ceiling in a Waterdeep tavern.

"Well if that's the case, you'd do well to hide in another place," the smooth, icy voice continued, "and none are welcome once we're closed." His hair was released and the blade removed, much to Bast's relief. He shook his head and rubbed the small nick where the dagger was resting. Now that his head was free to move, he turned to look at the man who'd caught him so quickly. His eyes widened at what he saw.

A handsome male stood before him, beside a table strewn with the paperwork he was obviously working on. His clothes were immaculate, well-tailored and without a stain on them. A belt heavy with daggers rested comfortably on slim hips. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and his face held a menacing expression. Full lips were pulled into a sneer upon smooth white skin, and amber coloured eyes reminiscent of a large cat glared at him.

Most shocking to Bast, however, were the elegantly pointed elf ears.

"Yes, well, I'd better be going then." The wickedly sharp dagger was still out, held loosely in the elf's hand as if it belonged there. The tap of it against the elf's shoulder was decidedly unnerving.

Bast didn't get any reply; truthfully he expected a swift cut and a short fall in answer. Instead, those eyes continued staring at him, opening promising pain should Bast do anything to upset him. Bast stood, transfixed and unsure what to do. Did he need this man's leave before disappearing into the streets again? Would a dagger end up in his back the moment he turned? Neither possibility would surprise him.

"Well?" the elf snarled, snapping Bast out of his thoughts.

Like a cornered animal, Bast slowly backed up a few feet, then turned headlong and ran.

Straight into the door.

Cursing himself silently, he tore open the door and raced out.

Sheathing his dagger, the elf sat down at the small but sturdy table, and picked up his quill. The night was still early, and there were many deals yet to be finalized.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Yay, second chapter is up! It's not often I'm so motivated for a story like this. I have my gorgeous girl Megan to thank for LARPing this with me. Disclaimer in the first chapter.

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The Hidden Prince

Chapter Two

When Bast opened the door, no creak met his ears. He popped his head in and saw cleanly swept floors, cleared tables and a polished bar. However, there was no one in sight beyond the scruffy looking human wiping glasses behind the bar. He gulped, and realized that, though dark, it was still early for people to begin drinking and reveling for the night. Gripping the 'help wanted' sign from the window, he stepped in.

"Er, 'scuse me, is the manager in?" he tentatively called out to the barkeep. The man glanced up and away from his glasses, looking faintly surprised.

"What do you want with him?" Bast was asked. He held up the sign.

"Ah, right. He's in the back, four doors down." After giving the diminutive boy a second look, he added, "good luck," and went back to polishing glasses.

Quirking an eyebrow at the odd warning, Bast straightened his hat over his ears and walked down the hall. A stray piece of silver-blue hair was brushed out of his large eyes as he tried to keep his steps quiet. Stopping in front of the door, the boy paused to straighten up. He pulled the hem of his too-short sleeves further down his arms, wishing they'd reach his wrists. He absently rubbed one scuffed boot on the back of his leg. Taking a deep breath, Bast knocked.

"Whatever it is, I'm busy." An uninviting answer from within. Bast tried again.

"One more knock and you'll leave with a broken wrist. I'm busy."

"I'm, uh, here about a job?" he called out through the door. He could hear an annoyed huff from inside.

"Be specific, you idiotic waste of breath!"

"The bar job! I'm here about the bar job!" He quickly yelped. After a few seconds, the door slowly swung open. He stuck his head through the door to see what manner of probably demise awaited him. _This must be the worst idea ever_, he thought to himself.

Amid the shadowy, smoky room, and well-dressed figure sat behind a low desk. Smudged maps and papers covered the expanse of the wood, as well as compasses and other, unidentifiable things. A single candle on a shelf lit the room. Although Bast could see surprisingly well, the person sitting behind the desk was still shrouded in darkness.

"Well? Make this quick, I have other business to attend to," snapped the man in a cold, familiar voice. Bast stepped forward slowly, and stood at the side of the desk. He mutely held out the 'help wanted' sign, which was quickly snatched away.

"Very well then," the man said briskly, "what can you do?"

"Excuse me?" he asked, confused.

"To help in a tavern, you worthless nuisance. Can you do anything besides standing there with a half-dead expression?" He wasn't looking at Bast at all, instead he was making small changes to a large, colourful map.

Resigning himself to this awkward interview, Bast lifted his head and spoke.

"I can wait tables, serve drinks, clean, take care of the stable, anything you need. My name's Sebastian Drewer, but everyone calls me Bast, I'm 19, and I'll be a great help, if you hire me" he finished breathlessly, and waited for a response. To his surprise and dismay, the other man stood up and became instantly recognizable as the elf from the night before. Bast tugged his hat down further in nervousness.

"So you would prefer to work for me, rather than sneak in at all hours of the night, is that it?" he drawled lazily. Bast flinched; he'd hoped he wouldn't be recognized.

"I, er, uh...I'm really sorry about that, see, I was being chased and this was the only place with an open door, and it's just that I didn't think anyone was here, at least, no one who would mind if I -"

He was cut off by the elf holding up a hand, motioning for silence.

"I didn't ask you why you did it. I asked you if you would prefer to work for me, boy."

"Yes I would," he answered quickly, hoping it was enough to save him. With a heavy sigh of annoyance, the elf stood up and walked toward Bast. His heels clicked on the hard floor, driving intimidation straight into Bast's heart. Slowly, yet with great authority, he walked around Bast, peering at him, inspecting.

"You are...19, you said?" The elf's usage of the normally harsh common tongue was smoothed by a strange accent, reminiscent of far off places.

"Um, yes, sir. 19."

"Hn, well, you'll do. You'll need room and board, I suppose?" He returned to his seat, not looking at the boy standing in the room.

"Er, yes, please," Bast said sheepishly, shuffling his feet.

"Very well then, the fee shall be taken from your pay," he stated matter-of-factly. "Any complaints?" he continued, when Bast uttered a small noise of surprise. He shook his head quickly in response.

"Good. Your room will be the third from the left on the top floor. Baths are on the ground floor, take one before you start work tonight. Use the soap provided and brush your hair." He looked distastefully at the shabby gray cap sitting lopsidedly on the other's head. "Hats are not allowed while working."

His tone was final, indicating that their interview was at an end. Bast, however, remained standing in front of the polished desk, uncomfortably shifting.

"I don't like not wearing my hat," he murmured, knowing he was probably asking for trouble. The elf's head shot up, eyes narrowed.

"Whatever made you believe that I cared one whit what fools such as you like or dislike?" His formerly smooth and clam voice had turned sharp enough to cut stone. "If you wish to to be in my employ you shall follow my rules, promptly and to the letter. Am I making myself utterly, _inescapably_ clear to you?"

Bast nodded, mute. He felt he might faint at any moment. Luckily, the pale head turned down again.

"I'm glad we've reached an understanding. The toad that birthed you would be so proud. You may leave now."

Without a word, Bast turned to the door, wanting desperately to get outside for some air. Just as his hand had gripped the knob, the silky voice called out to him one more time. Bast nearly groaned at what he heard, fully understanding the mistake he'd made coming here.

"By the way, you may call me Elaith. Elaith Craulnober."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Don't own, don't sue. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is a coincidence and should be taken as such. Bast is an original character, and may not be used by anyone else.

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"By the way, you may call me Elaith Craulnober."

At that statement, said in a voice just asking for some form of shock, Bast visibly paled. He, however, said nothing, and continued on his way out of the suddenly far too warm interview room. Once he was out and the door safely shut, he leaned against the wall and exhaled slowly. THE Elaith Craulnober? His joy at still having his life increased tenfold.

Being still new to the Waterdeep, he hadn't heard all the tales about the elf that were around, but he had heard some. He'd heard enough, definitely, to be terrified of crossing paths with the ruthless killer. And here he was, working for him? He groaned. What bad luck...But it wasn't he could just up and quit now, he rationalized, so best to make the most of it.

Making his way to the baths, he tried to wrap his head around his new life in the city. He peeked his head in, and sighed in relief at seeing no one else there. He quietly locked the door and slipped out of his well-worn clothes. Folding them neatly, he slid into the scalding hot water.

He sunk down to his chin, relishing the warmth. He could almost feel the dirt and grime of the past few weeks dissolving into the sweetly scented water. What was that, honeysuckle? Something light and lingering like that. Bast let the steam clear his head, giving him room to think about these past developments.

Two weeks ago, he'd been like any other boy his age, helping his parents with their farm work. Now, he was without parents, without friends, and without a home. He'd traveled to Waterdeep, the City of Splendors, with a passing caravan. Foolishly, he supposed, Bast had expected someone to reach out a hand of help to him. The cold blade and harsh words of his elven employer were, so far, the best he'd gotten.

Closing his bright amber eyes, he pulled his hat off and let his hair fall to the water. The silvery-blue locks shone in the clear water. His callused hands cupped and splashed some on his face, and he sunk down further to wash his hair. He rubbed the slippery bar over his head, scrubbing well to get rid of knots and tangles. When he resurfaced, his hair lay straight and smooth over his well formed back, lean and well-muscled from hard work, though slightly underweight.

Once his hair was clean, he stood up and rubbed the soap over the rest of his body, grateful to be rid of the sweat and grime. Sitting down to rinse, Bast contemplated his new job. He'd never really done anything but tend a small garden and herd the small hill goats his parents raised for milk. Something like this, though, serving meals and tending drinks and catering to other people, other customers. It felt a little overwhelmed to the young man.

He stood up and rubbed himself dry with one of the soft towels provided near the baths. He supposed there was another employee who took care of the laundry. Looking around, he dropped his towel in the woven basket he found, and re-dressed in the clothes he came in. They were fairly clean, he'd found a quick stream on his way to the city. It'd been far too cold to wash in, coming down from the high mountains, but was suitable for rinsing his clothes.

Bast held his hat in his hands, unsure of himself. The elf had expressly told him not to wear it, but he'd scarcely gone a day without it since he'd been born. He would feel beyond odd, overly exposed, without it. Sighing in resignation, he realised he had little choice if he wanted to keep his job. Folding it up and shoving it roughly into his small travel bag, he began combing through his hair. He settled for smoothing it over his ears and around his face carefully.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened his narrow shoulders, lifted his head up, and walked out of the baths and into the main room of the Tavern.

He gulped when he realised how many people were there. Men and women of all races sat around tables, behind curtained booths, and on high stools at the bar. He nearly gasped when he glanced at a man that so closely resembled an orc, he could have rolled out from under a mountain. In addition to this strange new sight were gnomes, a pair of dwarves, many humans of all colours, a handful of elves, and even a hugely tall being who resembled an upright lizard.

He was fighting to keep his eyes from widening out of his skull when he heard a gruff bark in his direction. He whipped his head around, and saw the barkeep motioning to him. He was a big man, more than double Bast's width and almost two and a half feet taller than him. When he finally was standing beside him, Bast had to strain his neck to look the other in the face.

"You the new boy? Lord Craulnober said ye'd be startin' tonight." His voice was as big as his stature, gravelly and rough. A well-chewed wooden toothpick was clamped between an impressive set of teeth, and hands worked mechanically wiping the bar.

"Er, yes, sir." A barking laugh was the only response. "Um, sir?"

"It's nothin', nothin. You don't need to be callin' me sir, laddy. The only sir around here is Master Craulnober, what hired you. You can be callin' me Ulbert. Now that table there wants a refill of ale. Be grabbin' that jug and go and pour it, as well as any others along the ways. Ye know yer numbers?"

"Up to fifty, sir. Er, Ulbert." Bast was proud of this fact. He could count well, for someone of his upbringing. He also knew all of the letters in the common tongue, though he couldn't make many words. Growing up in a tiny village minding goats and beans, this was a large accomplishment.

"Right, well keep track of how many drinks each person has, so they can pay the right amount at the end of the night."

Bast nodded his head, unintentionally shifting his hair from where it had been placed. Without his knowledge, else he would never have moved so, his long, elegantly pointed ears became clearly visible.

"Ah, so that's why the master hired you! I didn't know you was an elf!"


End file.
